


Blood on a rainy day

by alienspronkles



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural, Supernatural/Criminal Minds
Genre: Depressed Spencer Reid, Depression, M/M, References to Depression, Suicidal Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Witch Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29617089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienspronkles/pseuds/alienspronkles
Summary: Reid’s been depressed for a while now...and he finally goes through with it.Trigger WarningDepressionAnxietySuicide
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Blood on a rainy day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is about suicide and Reid’s suicide attempt so please read at your own risk if you’re sensitive to that.

"I'm sorry," Reid said as he continued writing the note, his hand shaking. 

Reid stared at the rain outside his window, the rain having an almost calming effect. He looked back at the note in front of him before chugging the beer bottle. He put it on the table and continued writing the note. 

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't even know where to start this. Part of me wants to write this, part of me doesn't. But I knew you'd bring me back to life just to get an answer if I didn't say anything. So here I am...writing this. I'm sorry I've been so distant lately. I'm sorry I've been depressed and...hell, I don't even know what I don't even know. All I know is that I want this feeling to stop. I have no motivation or...anything, really. I don't want to read or even spend time with you, because you'd figure out what's going on with me. You'd try and stop me. But I can't. I need to do this, Sam. Please. Don't try and stop this," Reid said as he wrote the note. 

Reid grabbed the beer bottle again and chugged it, wanting to try and calm his shaking. 

"Part of me wants to write to my team but...I don't know. I can't face them with this. I can't. I've been hiding this depression from them for years so I can't stop now. I have to go through with this. I've hid so much from them. My depression. My anxiety. Hunting. You. I'm sorry I didn't tell them about you. The facts say that they wouldn't care or judge me but I've dealt with enough homophobia in my life to know that I can't be careless. I really wish that I could tell them about you. But you are a serial killer who was wanted by the FBI for mass murder so that would be pretty awkward to explain."

Reid rubbed his eyes again and sighed. He looked at the note and sniffled slightly, his face red from crying. He got startled by a crack of thunder before going back to the note. 

"I'm sorry for everything, Sam. I wish I could've been here with you without depression," Reid said as he wrote the note. "I'm sorry."

Reid slid the note into an envelope signed _Sam_ and left it on the table. He grabbed the beer bottle and drank the last of it. Reid sighed and made his way into the bathroom, staring at the knife on the counter. 

"I can't use this knife," Reid said anxiously to himself. "I...I can't. Sam gave it to me. I can't." 

Reid went into the bedroom before searching through the duffel bag in the closet. He froze when he saw all the weapons in the bag, realizing if the team did find his body they'd find all the weapons. He didn't care anymore. Reid grabbed the knife before heading back into the bathroom. 

"I'm sorry," Reid said before readjusting his grip on the knife and making the first cut, and then another, and another. 

Reid looked at his arms, his vision extremely blurry and him seeing red. He broke down in tears before collapsing on the ground. 

"I'm...I'm sorry," Reid managed to say as he stared at the ceiling. 

Reid was lying back on the floor when he heard his phone ringing, the sound bringing him out of his dazed state just for a second. Reid slowly reached for the phone on the ground and looked at the screen, him barely able to make out who it was. 

"Hello..." Reid slurred after answering. 

"Reid? Reid? You don't sound good. What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I need...I need help..." Reid mumbled before blacking out. 

——

"I'm telling you, me calling him saved his life, Hotch," Derek said anxiously as he paced around the hospital room. 

"Why would he do this?" Hotch asked as he looked at the unconscious Reid in the hospital bed. 

"I don't...I don't know," Derek said, rubbing his slightly watering eyes. 

"What's in your hand?" Hotch asked. 

"There was a note left for someone named Sam," Derek said. "I wasn't gonna open it or anything if you were wondering."

"It's not your letter to open," Hotch said, Derek nodding. 

"What's going..." Reid mumbled as he woke up. 

"Reid? Hey. Hey. Are you okay?" Derek asked. 

"Sam?" Reid mumbled. 

"No, Reid. It's Morgan," Derek said before giving Hotch a look. 

"I'm sorry," Reid mumbled. "I'm..."

"Reid, you're okay," Derek said before hearing someone come into the room. 

"Who are you?" Hotch asked. 

"Sam," Reid said tiredly as he went to move his arms but found them restrained. "Why am I..."

"Because you tried to..." Hotch trailed off. 

"This is for you," Derek said, giving the letter to Sam. 

"Where's yours?" Sam asked. 

"He only left one," Derek said, Sam sighing and looking at Reid. 

"I'm sorry," Reid mumbled. "I couldn't...I couldn't take it anymore...I couldn't..."

"Take what?" Derek asked. 

"Everything," Reid said tiredly, his eyes barely focused. 

"Morgan," Hotch said, him and Derek leaving the room. 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked as he sat in the chair next to the bed, rubbing his eyes. 

"No," Reid said. "This didn't help at all."

"I'm glad," Sam said with a glare. "What the hell, Reid? We made a promise to each other to stay alive for each other. And you go and do this."

"I'm sorry," Reid said. 

"You better be," Sam said, staring at the note. 

"You wanna read the note. I can tell," Reid said tiredly. "Go ahead. I can't exactly stop you."

Reid lifted up his arms slightly, then being stopped by the restraints. Sam opened the envelope and started reading the letter. 

"You read slow," Reid mumbled. 

"I don't have a 187 IQ and can't exactly read 20,000 words per minute so bear with me," Sam sassed as he looked at the letter. 

Sam finally finished the letter and sighed. He shoved it in his pocket and grabbed Reid's hand. 

"Woah," Sam said, letting go of his hand. 

"What?" Reid asked tiredly. 

"I can just...I can _feel_ your depression," Sam said hesitantly. "I...I might be able to help."

"How?" Reid asked tiredly before Sam pulled out a hex bag. "Woah. Put the hex bag away."

"It's not a hex bag. Relax," Sam said with a glare. "It's...I've been feeling your depression lately, Reid. I could tell. And yet...I didn't do anything to stop it because you said you were fine."

"Sam-" Reid started. 

"You're gonna get better and then when you are better I'm gonna hit you," Sam threatened, Reid nodding. 

"I'm gonna block your punch," Reid said tiredly. "Or dodge it."

"You will not," Sam said blankly before sighing. "I made this to help with your depression."

"Thanks," Reid said tiredly. 

"Yeah," Sam said. "Did you really not say I love you in the note though?"

"You already new that. Plus you said you get tired of me saying it," Reid defended. 

"Because I hear it from you all the time," Sam said blankly, Reid smiling. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Better now that you're here," Reid said before looking outside, seeing the storm clearing up. 

"Good. Don't do anything else stupid," Sam said. 

"I won’t," Reid said.


End file.
